


Grease Monkeys

by chaitea



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Car Sex, F/M, M/M, Other, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Size Difference, Size Kink, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-19
Updated: 2009-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 11:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaitea/pseuds/chaitea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>09 Movie verse with other continuity undertones - Mikaela's love life hits the road block from hell while Ratchet is left fuming over having committed Wheeljack inspired malpractice. Mikaela/Ratchet with slight teasing of Sam/Bee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Found Each Other’s Exhaust Pipes

**Author's Note:**

> Author Note: Mikaela is a pain to write. The chore of bringing to life a character that had practically no development throughout the original work was not something I anticipated when I set out to write this. So hopefully no one minds too much that I added a few character quirks along the way. Otherwise she’d just be a set of slow moving breasts that occasionally worked on vehicles (not that there’s anything wrong with that but it is harder to utilize without visuals).  
> Disclaimer: Just borrowing since all recognizable characters and music legally belong to their respective owners.  
> Related Music: Venetian Princess/Jodie Rivera - Somewhere Else

_Do I want something more_

_Sometimes I’m not so sure_

_Always seem to change my mind each morning_

 “I knew it. Yah tell a boy you love him and the next thing you know, he’s-” A loud bang erupted from underneath the search and rescue Hummer H2, followed by a progression of colorful vocabulary.

“ **What did I advise you in regards to becoming distracted while performing routine maintenance?”** Ratchet’s annoyed voice emitted from the radio as Mikaela rolled out from beneath him. **“Go to your world wide web with that glitch. I will not have you take it out on my parts a moment longer.”** He revved slightly in irritation as the mechanic stood up to kick the roller board toward the nearest work bench before leaning against his frame. The warmth of the vehicle helped to ease some of the soreness in her muscles but did nothing for her heart.

“Yeah, cause that’d actually help someone in my unique predicament.” Rubbing her throbbing head, Mikaela tried not to let the grouchy hummer put her in an even worse mood. This was the third time today she inadvertently hurt herself. At this rate she’d probably lose a limb before nightfall. “Look, I’m sorry. Maybe you should get someone else to finish checking you out.”

His tetchy voice vibrated through the frame, **“Do not think that I have yet to consider the option. But even in this emotional state I trust you more than anyone else to go near my wiring.”** A shy smile turned up her mouth as his roundabout compliment helped to lightened Mikaela’s disposition. Meanwhile his air conditioner let out a sigh before continuing. **“Perhaps a break is in order. Go defragment your own hard drive before coming back to fumble with mine.”** Stepping away from Ratchet she nodded to him before sauntering out of his way. _Guess I should at least try to clear my head_ , she translated.

Shielding her eyes from the setting sun she couldn’t help but think back to the awkward look on Sam’s face when he tried to explain the ‘dilemma’ of his heart. She had been through so much with him, never before feeling that alive. The old rush she used to get from carjacking didn’t even compare. Ever since she agreed to follow his goofy mug into that shitty old Camaro her life has been one crazy wreck after another. It put to shame any prior relationship and damn was it exhilarating. So much so that she willingly suffered through the pain and terror brought on by giant alien robots twice to stay by his side. She would have never guessed that the very car which brought them together could so easily replace her. The ironic notion still boggled the girl's mind.

“I mean, I know a guy can get attached to his car. Hell, I can’t really blame them. But to actually try dating the damn thing? Sure I can understand finding cars attractive. Hell, my specialty revolves around keeping them that way. It’s just-” Shoulders slumped, Mikaela hadn’t notice the Peterbilt truck parked just outside the building until it revved lightly to get her attention. Startled to be caught once again in a soliloquy she felt her face flush in embarrassment.

“ **Internal monologue still malfunctioning, I hear.”** The deep baritone remarked before rolling up to join her pace across the pavement. She eyed the truck suspiciously but couldn’t discern any mockery in his observation. Not that she expected any from Optimus, but being on edge tends to make one a tad bit paranoid.

“Apparently.” Casting her gaze downwards she watched the enormous tires keep steady pace with her stride. “I just don’t know what to do with myself, you know? And it’s not like I have anyone to really talk about the whole mess with.” Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear a movement in his windshield caught her eye.

The truck had cocked a wiper at her but otherwise remained silent for a few moments. After only receiving her blank look in return Optimus lowered it before adding some clarification. **“Mikaela, I had hoped you were aware that I am here for you and would be honored to listen. Especially since you can't seem to stay quiet for very long these days.”**

Reaching out an oil stained hand she lightly rubbed his hood before resting it there. “Aww, bigbot. I know that. It’s just… I don’t want you to feel like I’m making you pick sides or anything.” Pausing she furrowed her brows before adding, “I mean, I don't want to bad talk the guy who resurrected you and all. That just seems, well... somewhere beyond downright rude.”

The truck paused in his pursuit, causing her hand to slide down the hood before settling above a headlight. Feeling her hand run over the freshly waxed surface Mikaela also stooped as she turned to face him. “ **So you’re turning down a friendly audio receptor while Ratchet unwillingly becomes partial to your troubles?”** The tone of amusement stood out almost as much as his fiery decal.

“Oh, that.” A shy smile played about her features as she considered this. “Well, that’s just me talking while I work. He’s lucky actually; my whistling would probably short his circuits.” Drawing her hand back she considered her nails carefully before continuing. “Besides, I can’t help but blabber on while my hands are busy working their magic.”

There was a sputter from somewhere under his hood that she learned to interpret as a chuckle of sorts. **“Just know that I am here if you need me. You have become an essential part of this team, after all. I’d hate to lose your aptitude when we may be in dire need of it sometime all too soon.”** Optimus’s wheels began turning again as the truck made his way past Mikaela. _Probably lost in thought about the ever looming presence of an escaped Megatron_. She was about to comment on the decepticon leader but Optimus brought her mind in a different direction with his closing statement. **“At least try not to scramble his programming too badly. He still hasn’t forgiven himself for inadvertently bringing about those twins.”**

As he rolled off to the larger hanger she cringed slightly at the thought. Those two lug nuts were the result of Ratchet’s tireless efforts to bring Jazz back to life. The medic has had a significantly shorter fuse ever since their sparks came online. Not that she could blame him. Even together the two bots were barely half the mech Jazz had been. _Which is especially awful considering the both of them put together are what's left of Jazz_. With that in mind Mikaela realized just how obnoxious she has been to Ratchet, blabbing on about her relationship issues to a guy that turned a dear friend’s remains into Mudflap and Skids.

Continuing to reprimand herself, Mikaela pivoted on her feet to head right back the way she'd come. "The nerve of me. Complaining about that pipe plugger's insensitivity while at the same time treating Ratchet like my livejournal." She was snapped back from her self loathing upon entering the med-bay. Everything was as she left it aside from the hummer. _He must have transformed shortly after kicking me out_. His back was turned to her while shuffling through a stack of papers with a low hum emitting from his vocal processor. When she passed the threshold Ratchet looked up, both optic guards raised in surprise at her entrance while his metallic mouth curved downwards in a grimace. The expression did not suit his features, which reminded her of a monkey with the way his face plating fit together. Usually the thought made her giggle around him, but thankfully today she was a bit too somber to ruin her apology before even giving it.

“ **Now either that was the shortest recharge ever or you once again neglected my instructions.”** His hold on the packet of paper tightened, creasing it under fingers of literal steel.

Sheepishly the girl approached with a hopefully charming smile. The practiced expression had gotten her out of worse trouble before. “I just wanted to apologize for how I've been treating you lately. You didn't have to get me this job on your base. I’m barely qualified and my only real experience is as a backyard grease monkey. So it must have taken some convincing on your part, what with my questionable background.” Looking up to his optics she grudgingly noticed no change in his facial plating. Determined to make her case she continued a bit too quickly, almost tripping over the words. “So, yeah. I'll try to stay quiet so I'm not distracting you or myself and this way I can keep it all in my head-” She paused upon seeing his mouth begin to form an even deeper frown, suddenly shifting to a different idea. “I mean out of my head, so my drama is not in any way impeding me. Or you. Since you already bust your ass enough around here without me adding a footprint.” Something akin to amusement seemed to light up his face slightly, encouraging her to go on at a more reasonable pace. “So you just let me know when I start slipping up. This way I can catch myself instead of becoming a total pain. Alright?” An awkward smile brought up the corners of her mouth as the alien robot watched her with eerie stillness.

“ **My skidplate would much rather you deal with this setback rather than letting it grate your gears a moment longer.”** Shifting his weight, Ratchet placed the crumpled stack of paper on a work bench before bringing himself into a sitting position. It was surprisingly graceful the way his parts folded into and around each other to accommodate the action. **“Now, in one sentence - and run-ons do not count - tell me specifically what your dilemma is.”**

Letting out a nervous breath, Mikaela considered how best to sum up her humiliation. Figuring that the most straight forward, if not slightly venomous, response she could give would do she began, “You see... my boyfriend dumped me to go fuck the spark plugs out of his car.” Come to think of it, there really wasn't too much more than that to say. Unless she went into a rant about that whole ‘I love you’ mess. But there was no way she could keep that under the one-sentence limit. _I knew saying it first was a surefire relationship killer_. Now flowing down that thought pattern she couldn’t help but become swept up in it.

Ratchet's optics shined with a sympathetic glow as he began addressing her drama, **“There now. Considering th-”**

“I mean, seriously! His car? The same car he used to pick me up with is now dropping him off like it’s hot!” Once again she found herself unable to bottle up her thoughts a moment longer as they flowed a bit too freely from her mouth. Somehow her lips managed to keep up with the steady stream of consciousness. “And it’s not just Sam because Bee and I were friends too. We fought together in Mission city and traveled across the world to save it. Is there no decency in robo-culture concerning the sacred bond of boyfriend and girlfriend?” Arms crossing, Mikaela’s face flushed as her anger continued boiling over and out from the seeming dainty girl. “And what could they even do together? Our bodies are hardly compatible! I should know, I’ve been working with you guys for some time now and in no way have I seen anything that could jerk Sam off better then my dry hand alone. Besides-”

Taking advantage of the human’s need for breath, Ratchet interjected before she could continue the assault on his audio receptors a moment longer. “ **Enough! Is your concept of one simple sentence so fragged up?”** Shifting his frame, the mech leaned in close to her, voice low and daunting. **“Now, what say we try this once more time? And to avoid another outburst, we shall start at the part after your one sentence summarization. Alright?”**

Feeling even smaller than usual in the autobot’s presence, Mikaela nodded quickly with lips held tightly closed by her teeth. _Just in case_ , she thought to herself.

“ **Excellent.”** Ratchet leaned back slightly, considering her with his azure gaze. She couldn't help but think of how the expression reminded her somewhat of Dr. Zeaus from Planet of the Apes. **“I do not pretend to know or understand the relationship you had on an emotional level. It is more than apparent that feelings were exchanged, considering your actions in response to it having ended. But even still, when in both your presence I only ever detected a pheromone level of attraction from the boy. Curious, considering your apparent relationship. Thus it is in my professional opinion that I speculate you were attracted to the fact that Samuel desired you, opposed to you physically desiring the boy himself.”**

She failed to keep quiet as her jaw dropped open from her now free to speak mouth, quite taken aback. “What makes you think- so you mean…” Trailing off she somehow managed to take the time to really consider his words before continuing the broken dialogue. She must have loved Sam. Why else would she have stayed with him for so long? They were together even after things calmed down following Mission City. Though come to think of it, they only had time to talk on the phone. He was busy preparing for college while she worked to help her father get his life back. But that didn’t last very long as the next wave of robotic trouble hit the planet harder than any of them were prepared for. Running a hand through her hair she considered the mech watching her expectantly. “Alright. So even if that is the case, how does it help me? I still feel like a wreck about everything. I lost my best friend and my boyfriend when they found each other’s exhaust pipes.”

“ **I still do not believe you have allowed my words to fully register. Consider it further on your way to recharge. I know it is still early, but from the look of you I would say some serious replenishment of energy is in order.”** He paused, focusing up and away from her almost thoughtfully before adding, **“You may even rest here if it adequately suits your needs.”**

Relaxing, she smiled at the surprisingly friendly offer. This hanger was specifically built separate from the rest of the autobots so Ratchet could have seclusion he needed to work. That he actually offered for her to sleep here a while was a pleasant surprise she took no time in accepting. “Thanks for understanding… even though I’m not quite sure I do. At least not yet.” Reaching her arms overhead in a yawn she made her way to the stretcher that Ratchet sometimes used when engaged in the search and rescue activities his paint job proclaimed him capable of. Compared to her bunk, the barely cushioned pad didn’t feel too bad as she dropped down onto it before curling up.

Ratchet seemed more at ease as he stood. She watched him cross his servos before turning to consider the crumpled packet of data he had been looking over before. **“Keep in mind; I will retract the offer if you have a habit of running your vocals while in stasis.”**

She couldn’t help but grin at his obnoxious foresight. Deciding the safest answer was to just stay quiet; Mikaela closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift in a more pleasant direction as sleep claimed her.

 

_Why does it feel like there’s more somewhere else_

_Don’t even know what I’m looking for_

_My heart rests somewhere else_


	2. What Iz Yo' Malfunction, Doc-bot?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: I wrote Ratchet to be far more like his G1 counterpart since the live action movie version wasn't on screen nearly enough for my liking. For me there are a lot more things to be done with him that way. Oh, and writing an intellectual with a bad temper was just irresistible.  
> As for the other two characters I have showing up in this chapter… I regret nothing!  
> Disclaimer: Just Borrowing  
> Related Music: Apoptygma Berzerk - Suffer In Silence

  
_I know I've messed things up_   
_By turning gold to stone_   
_Because of my free will, I lied about it all the way_   
_I need to forget, and make this tragic feeling go away_   


****

**_Hmmm, if that was all it took to stabilize her processor I should have calculated and then suggested it sooner_** , Ratchet mused while rereading a paragraph over for the third time. Now that the hanger was finally quiet it became his central processor’s turn to act up. Though satisfied at having eased the girl's mainframe somewhat, his own was still quite glitchy. Gears twitching, he contemplated the possible viral nature of unease and discomfort as he failed to focus once again on the data packet. **_It seems as though I will not be accomplishing much today either_.**

Stepping away from the cluttered workbench a loud hiss emitted from his hydraulics. Startled, he immediately shifted apprehensive optics to regard the recharging organic sprawled out on his stretcher. Relief flooded his cords as he noted that sleep continued to engage her. The girl’s delicate servos twitched slightly but otherwise Mikaela remained still. Thankfully her vocal processors stayed offline as well. Though now that his visual sensors were locked onto her finally serene features he could not help but openly stare. Dark strands of dead cells hung about her cranium, some of which wafted lazily as a combination of atmospheric gases were released from her-

**_No. That is not right_.** His optics flickered slightly as he accessed the globe’s national information infrastructure, flipping through various sites in regards to human anatomical explications. After considering several descriptors he finally settled on **_her hair danced playfully about her face as luscious lips freed a gentle breath_.** His own vents discharged a rush of air at the thought.

The small organic had become proficient beyond his expectations in regards to cybertronian mechanics. So much so that it was becoming hard for Ratchet not to view her as something more advanced than her species. She had innate talent when it came to manipulating machinery which was something he had been more then delighted to cultivate as they continued to work alongside one another. However she had not been the most attentive apprentice since her arrival. He frequently watched her stumble into a mindset that compromised her processor's ability to function adequately. It was more than apparent that the girl's circuits have been quite fried to a degree, causing her work with him to become sloppy and counterproductive as a result. Even still the medic preferred to work alongside her over any of the other humans they kept trying to weld him with.

Twice now she helped fight for their cause. The least he could do was offer her an opportunity working in a top secret government facility that came with exceptional benefits. Initially he was uncertain whether or not she would accept. Mikaela clearly enjoyed her occupation regarding automobiles and their maintenance. Paired with her creator’s recent freedom, Ratchet detected a rather low percentage of success acquiring her. Yet once again she surprised him by not only accepting but flying out to join him on base shortly after the invitation. He had an inkling that the cause for her arrival had more to do with young Samuel and his appointed guardian Bumblebee's current arrangement more so then anything else.

The medic could not help but muse over the nature of that relationship. Especially after Mikaela's comment in regards to what Bumblebee could provide that she was not adequately capable of. Since he still had several links open to fairly relevant source material the mech proceeded to study the organic’s anatomy in a different manner then before. Optic guards pulling back in surprise, he delved through various images and documents detailing the extensive possibilities the human body was capable of in regards to pleasure. **_Oh... my_. ** He thought as he found himself intrigued beyond all logical reasoning.

Ratchet probably would have wasted the rest of his evening in this manner if not for the all too recognizable shriek of a cybertronians’s vocal processor. Dragging a servo down his face plating in irritation he promptly shifted into vehicular mode mid step while mentally sending an activation code to open the hanger doors. Practically drifting out onto the concrete, the hummer surveyed the scene before him with headlights blazing.

Just as he suspected, the disturbance was the result of yet another tussle between Mudflap and his twin brother Skids. **_Primus, will I never again know peace after committing my transgression?_** He lamented ruefully while driving over to the battling bots.

“ **O' nah ya din't, gitch.”**

“ **Bea-ot please. Ya’ iz cramping muh mutha-boardin’ style, ya process?”**

“ **Yo' style? Ah downloaded dat thang first!”**

The twins were yet again tangled in one another’s servos, flailing about recklessly while auspiciously destroying two perfectly good languages every time they opened their audio units. Mudflap and Skid's incessant need to surpass one another only ever succeeded in grinding everyone else's gears. Particularly those of the fast approaching medic who floored his gas pedal as he charged into the twins, knocking them apart.

“ **What da well o' all sparks?!”** Skids cried out in alarm as his oversized right arm managed to smack him in the face plating upon being thrown from his brother. His already wobbly gold denture dangled pathetically before finally coming loose and falling to the ground.

Mudflap was already righting himself as he whined, **“Yeea. What iz yo' malfunction, doc-bot?”** The brick red mech shifted his weight as he stumbled before getting his bearings back. Optic guards narrowed at Ratchet, giving him a rather offended looking expression.

The hummer didn't even bother to transform, rolling back slightly to give the bane of his spark room as Skids continued struggling to regain his balance. **“Put a muffler on it before I dislodge your voice modulators, you malfunctioning slag heaps.”** Ratchet practically roared out his speakers. **“I may have had some misbegotten virus when I brought you cogs online in the first place, but do not process for a cycle that I would not send both of your sparks to the pit.”** His frame practically rattled with fury.

“ **Coolant down, muh mech.”** Taking a defensive position, Mudflap backed away from the seething vehicle cautiously. **“We’s iz just goin’ ta ninja our afts out o’ ya’lls range, aight?”** In his haste he practically tripped over Skids, who had just managed to steady his stabilizing servos.

The lime green mech took hold of his brother for balance before shouting out, **“Haz ya’ll blown a diode? Don’ be up in mah spark box like dat!”** Once again balanced, Skids shoved his twin roughly.

Mudflap’s face plating rearranged into a look of outrage as his enormous left arm came up offensively, **“Why ah ought ta-”**

Ratchet’s voice emitted from his speakers, low and threatening. **“If either of you do not switch off your vocal units and get your slagging afts to separate hangers I will personally pulverize both your pistons.”** Even at the decreased volume his words proved efficient as evidence by their abrupt transformations to alt mode before driving off in the direction of the main autobot hanger. **_And I thought Starscream had been a few circuits shy of a full processor_.**

While driving back to the med-bay hanger Ratchet attempted to focus on anything other than the misbegotten sparks he just reprimanded. Sending a signal to close the door behind him, the hummer rolled to a stop between the work bench and Mikaela. Either was capable of providing a far more unobjectionable distraction. **_Though one far more than the other_ ,** he noted complacently. Taking in the sight of his apprentice, Ratchet allowed his thoughts to wander freely. It was an enjoyable venture for some time as he considered their work together in this very hanger. Nevertheless he soon found himself reflecting further back to a time before she arrived.

**_They may have become astoundingly adept concerning suggestions for combat, specifically strategic maneuvers_ ,** he paused in his musing while looking back on several scenes that confirmed this. **_Yet their jive-talking outbursts and ‘gangsta’ mentality hardly make keeping them online worthwhile_ ,** he bitterly ended the thought. Sinking his tires slightly in exasperation the hummer cursed to himself upon realizing that once again he sulked over the memory file which persistently opened within his mainframe.

The remaining sides involved after the battle for the All Spark in Mission City had much to execute in regards to the aftermath. The organics worked to cover up the incident along with the overall existence of his species. Yet it slowly became more then apparent that their efforts were wasted, concerning all the speculating websites and conspiracy theories posted throughout cyberspace. In the meantime, his fellow autobots focused on handling the remains of the deceased cybertronians. The decepticons were laid to rest easily enough. **_Unfortunately not all of them had enough logic circuitry to stay that way_ , **he reflected while considering Megatron’s inopportune restoration. As for their own ranks, one of the many questions remaining concerned what was to become of their fallen comrade. Jazz's body had been torn apart, leaving their already small squadron reduced in number. If the bot’s spark chamber had not been torn in half as well the medic could have easily welded Jazz back together. The loss weighed considerably on the remaining mechs and while a transmission had been sent out at the time there was no grantee that their ranks would increase any time soon, if at all. **Also** , Ratchet had finally allowed himself to lament internally, **_I miss that rambunctious saboteur_.**

Looking upon the remains of his fallen comrade, sparks began to fly through the medic’s processor as a plan pieced together. He went about connecting various files of information in his mainframe, considering something he thought only Wheeljack’s unique processor could concoct. They still had a fragment of the Allspark which might be utilized in the reactivation of Jazz. The percent of success may seem minimal and in all likelihood would fail, yet at least the medic’s spark could be put at ease that he undertook all possibilities.

It was not difficult to convince Prime to let him test this new theory. The melancholic soldier was perfectly willing so long as it would in no way backfire. Ratchet should have known between then to provide blind assurance in return for blinder authorization. Not that he could blame the autobot leader for trusting in his brief stint as a mad scientist. By all outward appearances Ratchet’s face plating seemed calculatingly confident. After preparing his new med-bay on their assigned base, Ratchet was finally ready to implement his research. After scrutinizing the diagrams and shooing the remaining autobot’s out of his way the medic finally began the tedious ordeal. Nearing its conclusion he felt something akin to what Wheeljack described to him so often in regards to executing a hypothesis when he flipped the last switch. He recalled that moment as the last time he was truly happy in his position.

In retrospect the procedure was neither a success nor failure. In its aftermath the remaining fragment of the Allspark was once again returned to a heavily guarded facility while the autobot's continued their preparations, awaiting the arrival of possible allies and foes alike. Not that their ranks were left waning. The experiment had indeed reanimated Jazz's body, just not Jazz. In his place stood two half amour plated protoforms. The small mechs were online, functional, and already would not shut up before either could have possibly processed their first full thought.

Coming back to the present Ratchet grimaced at the memory. Not wanting it opened and unable to recycle it the file was shifted out of the way, replaced with significantly more pleasing thoughts. Such as how best to challenge his apprentice so the next time they worked together Mikaela would be too distracted to think of the new intimate bond between Bumblebee and his charge, Samuel. While no suitable solution was calculated, the experience eased his spark considerably.

After a time, he felt his com link beep as Optimus called them to a meeting. It was not until the hummer began his transformation that he noticed the call was put forth to all the autobots, meaning he would be seeing the twins yet again this cycle. His dread increased as he noted that the spanning com link also meant the cause for Mikaela's distress would be returning to base. **_So much for our progress earlier_ ,** he thought bitterly. **_One would think I had become used to so many botched attempts by now_.** Cringing silently the mech again departed from his med-bay that evening, leaving Mikaela to continue her recharge alone.

 

I know I lost  
Please let me suffer in silence  
I've said enough  
Please help me hide from the ghost  
from my past for a while..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, the twins...  
> I had to. And no worries, they are obnoxious side characters whose appearance will be very minimalistic.


	3. That Whole Us-Sharing-Our-Problems Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: I started out hating this chapter since I had no clue where I was going with it and found myself trapped in Mikaela’s perspective. After some heavy editing and much thanks to two beta readers I feel I can post some fluff worth reading. Though all around, adding more giant robots really is the way to go when working out a Transformers plot. Hopefully Michael Bay will remember that for Transformers 3.  
> Disclaimer: Just Borrowing  
> Related Music: Trace Adkins - Chrome

_Her favorite color is ..Chrome_   
  
_Chrome, get her leg up high_   
_on the bumper of my big black Mack truck_   
_With a smoke stack pointed towards the sky_   
_And mud flaps, you know the kind_

 

As warm light continued to filter in from an open window Mikaela opened her eyes slowly to help accommodate for the brightness. When the room came into focus she suddenly shot up, momentary taken aback by her surroundings. “Oh my god, I am so sorry Ratchet. I so didn’t mean to-” The emptiness of the med-bay finally dawned on her and she became relived that her outburst went unnoticed.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes she made her way across the room. “It's a good thing Ratchet insisted on having it built so large, considering all the ancient cybertronian technology he now stores here,” she mused aloud. The smaller pieces were able to fit on shelves or be stored neatly, but for the most part what remained of the sun-eating machine took up the far corner. Aside from those recent additions the hanger was well equipped to maintain and repair the autobots. Ratchet may have been a field medic for the most part but it became more than apparent to Mikaela that he preferred to work from a well stocked and accommodating location. As she rummaged through the tool box she had been using the other day the mechanic's gaze shifted back to the artifacts that littered the other half of the room. Considering the alien language inscribed on various chunks of it she couldn't help but recall Sam's brief stint down crazy lane when she recognized several of the symbols from carvings he made in the ground. The look on his face had been, of course, ridiculous as he scrambled about to make sense of the images bombarding his brain.

Suddenly a breath caught in her throat as she mulled over the state of her own mind. This had to be the first time since his 'confession' that she was able to think of her ex without feeling the least bit pissed. “I mean, sure it still hurts that he dumped me, but...” Trailing off she leaned against a workbench, staring unfocused at the twisted metal. _Ok, so I suddenly feel a whole lot better about everything. That’s what I came here for, right? To move on with my life._ Shaking her head, she tried to place what had changed.

Yesterday wasn't the first time Ratchet let her fumble around underneath him. She had also complained about her problems out-loud while working on him before. He just happened to actually get fed up enough to kick her out over it yesterday. That wasn't too unexpected either, considering how much the twins have been grating on his patience. So she also wasn't surprised by his short fuse with her. Mikaela considered the way the old medic had been staring down at her, monkey face stern and unresponsive before he brought his optics to her level and actually showed an interest in her that wasn't related to the girl's ability to manipulate machines. _Now that was definitely different_. And until last night she had never actually opened up and talked about her problems with the mech, as opposed to just talking at him like usual. “Apparently Ratchet must have picked up a doctorate in psychology since landing here.” Her lips curved upwards fondly at the notion.

Before she could continue down that line of thinking Mikaela became distracted by hunger pangs. Frowning, she pushed away from the bench and began making her way to the hanger door. The warm air in late autumn reminded her how very nice it was to be this far from Tranquility. Diego Garcia Island was almost the perfect vacation getaway. All she had to do was block out the sounds of unsatisfied drill sergeants, the testosterone ridden verbal jousts of bravado, and an occasional explosion that mingled with a range of obscenities. As if feeling left out, the loud grind of metal on gravel alerted her to one of the many transforming alien robots that also inhabited the military base.

Pausing mid-stride, the sight of a familiar black GMC Topkick in his bipedal mode brought a smile to her face. _Ironhide must have returned from his time on the mainland with the Lenox Family_. Every time Will was granted leave he had taken to bringing the giant black truck with him. Whereas Ratchet's face reminded her of a monkey’s, the weapons specialist's features made her think of a large, very feral cat. The look clashed charmingly with his personality, which was basically that of a cowboy with cannons. Mikaela vowed that if she ever came across a novelty cowboy hat large enough she would get it for him, knowing full well he'd sooner blast the bad joke then wear it.

“ **Ah, 'kaela,”** The mech called as he spotted the familiar, if still unorthodox addition to his team.

“Howdy Hide.” She was somehow able to hold back a giggle at her inside joke while hurrying to catch up to him. “Welcome back.”

“ **A pleasure to be.”** He drawled, glancing down at her while only slowing his pace minimally. **“Though I can't catch-up for long this time. Optimus called everyone in for a recon meeting.”**

Mikaela almost tripped as a chill surged down her spine. “Everyone?” She practically stuttered.

His optics shined curiously as he continued towards the main hanger, his heavy steps never faltering. **“Well, yes. It has been far too long since we all came together. There is still quite a lot to discuss in regards to our future plans here.”** He paused before adding thoughtfully, “ **Especially now that our presence is widely known among you organics.”** Just outside the hangers opening, he turned to regard her. His face plating shifted in an unfamiliar, alien expression.

 _And here I figured I had finally got better at reading them_ , she thought grudgingly before saying, “So that means Bee and Sam...” While the words drifted off her thoughts poured onwards like a river through a freshly demolished damn.

Understanding seemed to finally set in the black mech as he made the very human gesture of rubbing a hand uncomfortably along his upper spinal struts. **“I'm certain it won’t be for too long. After all, Sam does have his studies to complete.”**

Mikaela's shoulders slumped at the thought. Her ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend were coming to invade her private sanctuary. The island getaway she so desperately craved suddenly seemed more like an isolated prison. Her thoughts poured further on, _So much for running away from my problems, and just when I was starting to get over them. Guess I better schedule another therapist session with Ratchet soon._ The last idea lightened her heart and helped to force a smile. “All right, then.” She ran a hand through dark hair as the rumble in her stomach persisted. “Guess I’ll catch you later.” Turning towards her barracks she found her path barred by yet another giant alien robot.

“Hey! I was just thinking about y-” Mikaela abruptly ended the sentence upon seeing her mentor’s face plating bent into a malicious expression. His resemblance to King Kong before fighting the tyrannosaurus was about as funny as it was terrifying. Ratchet had just exited the hanger Ironhide was getting ready to enter. The weapon’s specialist gave his medic a knowing glace before continuing his retreat into the hanger, leaving Mikaela alone with an almost literally steaming Ratchet.

He looked from his med-bay to her before finally speaking, voice low and surprisingly controlled. **“I find my time shall be spent on another… task today. We will resume yesterday’s lesson another time.”** The finality of his tone almost had the girl bolting. Almost.

“Yah know, that whole us-sharing-our-problems thing? It goes both ways.” While speaking she rested a hand against his heated armor; underneath it the vibrations of his coolant system worked to stabilize his temperature. Relief flowed through her as she watched Ratchet’s features visibly relax at the contact.

“ **I shall keep that in mind. In the meantime I have preparations to attend to.”** He paused while readjusting his stance to look like a far more pacified giant angry gorilla. The effort was greatly appreciated by Mikaela. **“I will be available by 2100 this cycle.”**

After quickly converting from military time she grinned up before declaring, “It’s a date.” Turning to make her way around his large yellow form she made her way to the barracks meant for any civilians residing on base. It was almost noon and she had completely neglected her morning routine. Also, she couldn’t help but feel grimy in clothes she not only wore the day before but had also slept in.

Pulling the stiff door towards her she noted the emptiness of her shared room, “Guess everyone else’s is probably in the mess hall,” she mumbled allowed. Her stomach growled a response that soon had her rummaging through a drawer. Usually she saved the snacks sent by her father but there was no way she would wander around base a moment longer in her disheveled state. Chocolate in one hand and a towel in the other she made her way to the bathroom. It was nice not having to wait for the shower like most mornings. Not that she overall minded her roommates, but living with four other women brought about all sorts of inconveniences.

As lukewarm water cascaded across her body she couldn’t help but snicker at the memory of their last conversation when she was interrogated about what exactly it was she did on base. Not surprising, considering all her roommates were currently reporters from various networks. Ever since the decepticons hacked the satellites, attacked various landmarks, and almost destroyed the world the idea of even attempting another awful cover-up story fell through. Thus to pacify the curious people of her world, while still having some semblance of control over the situation, various media personnel had been permitted onto base. Because of this she too often found herself subject to the same general questions, most of which revolved around why she was there. For a response Mikaela had taken to quoting one of Ratchet’s many drawn out and overly complex explanations. After using variations of the line so many times she almost had herself saying it in his deep, no-nonsense manner. “If Cybertronians are to be maintained sufficiently on an organic based globe then it is only logical to have suitably skilled native inhabitants trained in their advanced mechanics for the purpose of both peace-time and battlefield support operations,” she practiced aloud before shutting off the shower.

Looking herself over in the mirror she noted the lack of bags under her eyes and the tanner completion. “Looks like life on a military base has been agreeing with me after all,” she remarked smugly before reaching for a brush. As she worked it through her damp hair she once again found her mind drifting to the idea of an encounter with Sam. The base was small so the likelihood of running into him was more than possible. Shaking her head to repress the thoughts a spray of water marred the mirror, slightly distorting her reflection. “This isn’t working,” she muttered before finishing up in the bathroom.

Mikaela tried to focus on anything but the frustration she felt at her failed love life. Relationships never did seem to work out for her, no matter who she tried to have them with. Thanks to a series of ridiculous circumstances she had found herself dating the awkward dork for once. It started out promising enough and she hoped things would be different with Sam. They certainly were, just not in any way she expected or appreciated. Pulling on a white tank top she tried to focus on what she’d do now that Ratchet had postponed their session.

The rest of her day was uneventful. At dinner she learned that Sam and Bee weren’t scheduled to arrive on base till very late that evening and would be gone by tomorrow afternoon. “At least I have a much better chance of avoiding the happy…” her words tapered off at what exactly to call the unconventional union. Frowning, she instead tried to focus on finishing the e-mail to her father. After pressing ‘send’ she regarded the time according to her laptop and grudgingly noted that she still had another hour before heading to the med-bay. It was then that her thoughts finally seemed to simmer down as they drifted to the disgruntled autobot medic. Sitting back and staring at the monitor with glazed over eyes she barely registered the clock flashing 8:30pm. Sighing dreamily she decided that it wouldn’t offline him if she showed up early for once.

On her way Mikaela became momentarily distracted by a conversation between what had to be the best reason for some websites needing child proof filters. Mudflap and Skids were going on in what Mikaela jokingly referred to as cybonics. The bastardized language was getting easier to pick up on, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes when she overheard one of their new favorite slang terms: **“decepticrackas.”** Continuing by faster to avoid possible inclusion in whatever scheme they were concocting this time she slipped into the hanger, nearly crashing into a yellow search and rescue hummer.

The vehicle seemed to rise up on his struts defensively before settling back down, **“You radiate the impression of one who delights in residing outside the time frames of those around you,”** he grumbled sleepily.

“Not all of us cheat by having internal clocks,” the girl pointed out while stepping back as all at once the Hummer broke apart before reconfiguring. In a synchronous order the vehicle began to take its bipedal form. These movements were accompanied by the sounds of metal grating lightly and whirling as various parts tucked under or folded outward. When the last panel flipped, so did the mech who leapt to his stabilizing servos. Ratchet then rotated on his hips elegantly before facing her.

“ **The advantage of encompassing highly developed programming is hardly deceitful,”** he remarked.

Rolling her eyes she climbed up onto one of the autobot sized benches that Ratchet used to ‘torture’ his teammates. Though still far from eye level, at least now it would be much easier to talk with him since craning her neck back when at that previous altitude would have been quite painful in the morning. “So... what’s on your mainframe?” she prompted. A grimace distorted his robotic features, dimming optics and furrowing a metal brow. “That won’t do,” she thought aloud.

Carefully she stood on the already high up bench and reached out. As she touched the sour expression, one hand slid across the plate of yellow armor covering his chin. The girl noted how defined the groves were as she continued running finger tips lightly along the hard metal. A curious smile turned her own face up when a warm rush of air emitted from his vents. Feeling bolder, her hand shifted to run over the more sensitive chrome covering of his cheeks, stopping just before the plating that made up his lips.

“I, uh...” She began, caught up in the all too intimate touch the mechanic gave to her mentor, the medical officer for robotic aliens.

He simply watched her through azure optics that shone with a curious gleam. Aside from that, his frame seemed far too still under her trembling hand. In no way did Ratchet discourage her fingers from feeling the metal plating that made up the living metal assortment of his face. The brightening of his optics was the only indication that he even felt it. Gazing into them her hands traced around the plating of his main audio unit as she felt her own mouth open, lower lips puffing out ever so slightly.

Just then his optics began to flicker, accompanied by a soft mechanical whirl. Narrowing her own eyes in confusion she watched as he seemed to retreat into his mind. “Ratchet?” She prompted, hand drawing back apprehensively.   _Did I just break my boss?_

_Chrome,I said hey little girl you sure look nice_   
_Do you wanna ride, I won't bite, she climbs inside_   
_Says hell no, I want to drive_


	4. Music. Use It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: ’bout time I addressed the other autobots that were thrown into the movie with little to no consideration. This will conclude the not rated M portion of my story as plot will now take a break for some more risqué character development. So the next two chapters can be skipped if you wish to remain ignorant to the inner workings of my twisted mind. Sigmund Freud would have a field day with what's up next.  
> Disclaimer: Just Borrowing  
> Related Music: Queen – I’m In Love With My Car

_The machine of a dream, such a clean machine,_   
_With the pistons a pumpin', and the hubcaps all gleam._   
_When I'm holding your wheel,_   
_All I hear is your gear,_   
_When my hand's on your grease gun,_   
_Oh it's like a disease son,_

Once again looking to cyberspace for assistance Ratchet utilized a search engine in hopes of settling his overactive mainframe. In a spark pulse, the mech had already scanned through several pages worth of links from a list of 443,000,000 results. The experience proved anything but constructive. The majority of information was either contradictory data or perturbing recounts. **_And this ‘Twitter’ is highly disconcerting._** Instead of wasting any more time on such primitive technology he focused back on his own memory files for elucidation.

“ _A date”_ Mikaela’s recorded words from earlier now confounded the autobot as he replayed the audio file to himself. Meanwhile the girl's delicate hand had withdrawn from his face platting. Trying to ignore the flash of his disappointment at the lack of contact, Ratchet went back to focusing on their earlier conversation. Her idiom had numerous connotations to it and when spoken he had assumed it was merely meant amicably. Yet now he found himself uncertain. At some point during Ratchet’s musings his mandible had loosened and now hung open. Closing it, he shifted uncomfortably as silence flickered between the two.

After cycling a large quantity of air through his vents, the mech considered the human female before him. Her hurt expression, along with the way her hand was held hesitantly before him led Ratchet to act on an impulse. Reaching out towards Mikaela’s suspended arm, he caught it on his metal finger. He then brought the limb back to his audio unit. Feather light, Ratchet moved the metal plating that made up his mouth components against the back of her hand and emitted a faint click as he mimicked the action of a kiss.

He was rewarded when the awkwardness abated, leaving in its place a rubicund complexion of her facial features. The new color greatly complimented her startled cerulean eyes that were locked onto him. **“Yes, Mikaela?”** he lightly rumbled.

After some vocal hesitation, Ratchet’s apprentice finally seemed to gather back her wits. “I still wanna know what had you practically blowing a gasket earlier.”

Ratchet leaned back to give her more space while considering the readings his scanner took of her vital signs. **_Fascinating,_** he considered in the back of his central processor. Aloud he answered, **“Optimus continues to have difficulty negotiating with your government. While this is not currently a pressing concern, we autobots cannot help but consider circumstances in the long term. The representatives that have been dealing with us are most adamant about avoiding any permanent arrangement.”**

She nodded while folding slender arms to hold them close to her body. The overall posture radiated a need for warmth yet her temperature remained within its normal range. He ran another scan over her, checking for an abnormality related to this behavior. Unable to locate a physiological cause the medic resumed his recount. **“As you know, one of the debates that persist is the need for humans to become familiar with our technology, particularly the category related to Ironhide’s specialty.**

“Waita minute,”  His aprentice intergected.  “I thought part of the agreement when you guys first formed NEST was that you wouldn’t be sharing anything like that.”

Tightening a few gears in agitation, Ratchet revealed his part in the unsettling development. **“In the aftermath of my last laboratory mishap, several officials became a bit too creative for their own good. They wish to repeat my accident by exploiting the remains of fallen decepticons. That way they shall have living cybertronian weapons without our involvement.”**

“How could they think you’d agree to something like that?” The outrage in Mikaela’s voice helped to sooth his own frustration. “I mean, I know we’ve tried some dumb shit in the past, but really?”

“ **To their credit, your government is fully aware that we shall not participate. To obtain the information needed they have instead been pressing for me to instruct them in our physiology. Not only will select organics become further educated on cybertronian internal workings, but at such a close proximity to my work, the likelihood of stumbling upon laboratory notes of past experiments increases exponentially.”** Pausing he could not help but delight in Bumblebee’s foresight in implanting listening devices in so many of the human’s communication lines.

“So I might get a few class mates?” She ventured tentatively.

He emitted a grinding chuckle before answering, **“Not while I remain in possession of my own processor. Either way, the information they seek cannot be accessed by any device here at this time. ”**

Late into the night, the two discussed possible tribulations and diplomatic solutions. The girl’s mind was able to remain sharp and observant throughout most of their discussion yet after some time it became apparent that her body longed for recharge. While her insistence upon being fully functional was charming, the mech assured her that no offense would be taken and encouraged her need to replenish energy. For the second night in a row the female organic remained in his med-bay while being fully operational, **_quite possibly an all too pleasant coincidence._**

Stepping from his med-bay, Rachet continued to ponder this relationship with Mikaela. **_Though the term ‘relationship’ may befit Bumblebee and Samuel’s arrangement all things considered,_** he speculated upon spotting his teammate leaning against the opening of the main autobot hanger. The bright yellow mech waved him over, facial plating arranged in a near identical expression to the one Ironhide gave him earlier. Shifting into alt mode the hummer threw himself into drive and proceeded toward the hanger. Bumblebee then turned to enter with Ratchet following close behind. The medic soon found the entirety of his autobot faction gathered within. He transformed quickly to take his place alongside their leader with a flash of alarm shining in his optics.

“ **I would apologize for not alerting you sooner, old friend. But it seemed as though you had your own business to conclude.”** The very human gesture of one optic guard closing briefly followed his Prime’s dialogue.

Before Ratchet could inquire to the deeper meaning, Ironhide stepped forward to begin his report while the rest of the autobots listened intently. **_Some more than others_** , Ratchet noted ruefully upon noticing the twins. Out of habit he began running a quick systems scan over the two, recording the baseline data for later comparison. Upon noting the optimal level of their physical condition he thought, **_a shame that cannot be said of their central processing units_**.

Alongside the twins was their latest recruit, Wheelie. The blue minibot had proved himself quite the instigator when in close proximity to Skids and Mudflap. This again is Ratchet’s doing since he did bar the minibot from his first choice of acquaintances. When Mikaela first arrived on base, it was practically impossible for the medic to train her adequately. The RC Monster truck followed the girl about much like grease on an axel. Eventually the fed up mech gave Wheelie an ultimatum in regards to appropriate proximity. Currently at least Skids tried to seem attentive while the other two barely stifled grinding chuckles. After completing a scan, it became obvious the three were engaged in some inane banter over a thankfully private communication line.

Moving on to the next autobot, Jolt, he took note of the mech’s electrical whips. They went along quite well with his choice of alt mode, a blue Chevrolet Volt. The instruments’ ability to allocate extensive damage, as well as assist Ratchet in medical practices, made Jolt a valuable addition. He rarely spoke during meetings, preferring to wait for formalities to conclude before sharing his view. Finding no drastic changes to his overall schematics, the medic’s attention shifted to the three femms.

The Triplets, Acree, Chromia, and Elita One, were each a slightly different customized motorcycle in alt mode. Aside from coloring, there were few other qualities to distinguish them as individuals. It was not until Ratchet had the opportunity to examine them in his med-bay that he came to know them as individuals. He had worked closely with the fully operational Chromia as he repaired Acree and Elita One who had both sustained severe damage. He suspected they were a hive mind on some level yet never found adequate time to test the theory. **_Now I truly am beginning to process like Wheeljack_**.

To distract himself from that disturbing notion he fixed his optics on Sideswipe. The sleek mech stood stiffly, facial plating set in a stern gaze as the weapons specialist concluded his account. The overall demeanor clashed drastically with what Ratchet knew of the typically mischievous autobot. He attributed this to the absence of Sideswipe’s brother, Sunstreaker. While it was pleasant to no longer fret over the friendly fire and collateral damage typically caused by the original twins, Ratchet found himself hoping the narcissistic sociopath would show up soon for his brother’s sake. The sword-like blades protruding from Sideswipe’s arms gleamed from excessive maintenance while his wheeled feet shifted back and forth ever so slightly to maintain balance.

His attention was then brought to Bumblebee as the scout began his report on what occurred ‘stateside’ while with his charge. Though his vocal components had been fully repaired by Ratchet after Mission City, the youngling continued to prefer communication through radio signals, especially around the organics. Using various audio compositors, Bumblebee playfully expressed himself. The medic did not have the spark to deter Bumblebee since the eccentric use of music reminded him of Jazz.

With his newly restored voice, he continued to report: **“-intercepted a few encoded messages detailing the location of the decepticon remains that the humans gathered together. When will we move in to secure them?”**

Optimus shifted his weight uncomfortably before answering. **“This situation is to be treated as delicately as possible.”** He then looked to each of his troops thoughtfully before continuing. **“Our alliance has not been completely finalized with the people of Earth. Any act against humans can be construed a threat. They are already hesitant to trust us, which is unsurprising when we consider how the decepticons brought our existence to light. In the meantime, we will continue to monitor the progress of those humans working to deceive us.”** He said while looking to Ratchet for assurance.

 ** _I received that same look when requesting authorization to try restoring their saboteur_** , Ratchet noted mournfully. Aloud he stated, **“They now lack a functional shard of the All Spark and never had the machinery to adequately draw upon its power.”** With a wave of his servo he added, **“Reanimating a cybertronian’s remains is a far more sophisticated feat then simply giving the spark of life to a mindless circuit board.”**

With the formal portion of the meeting finished the autobots shifted to conversations that were more casual. The three fems surrounded Optimus to discuss possible missions they might partake in so they could leave the base while Ironhide and Bumblebee compared various organic behaviors they had witnessed while among them. Skids and Mudflap huddled down to better continue their erratic conversation with Wheelie. At the same time, Ratchet found himself engaged in a tactical debate with Jolt concerning his weapon of choice while Sideswipe stood slightly off to the side of everyone. It was not until the possibility of more autobots arriving on Earth came up that Sideswipe acted enthused.

Running a final scan over of each mech in attendance, Ratchet considered how it might be excellent practice for Mikaela to begin work on his fellow autobots. The young mechanic did need an exigent distraction and he was certain the others would not mind. Ironhide might even prefer it to Ratchet since the black mech so frequently expressed annoyance at any prospect of an examination by **“The Hatchet.”** Pleased with his conclusion, the medic excused himself from the others to head back to his med-bay.

After stepping from the hanger into the bright light of early morning, Ratchet’s attention focused on a pair of humans currently embracing. Typically, such a display of affection would have unfazed him. Yet upon identifying the organics entangled his mouth components ground together as his engine revved irritably. He then heightened the sensitivity of his audio receptors he was able to make out their conversation.

“I guess that makes sense. But it still doesn’t mean you had to be such an ass about it.” Mikaela mumbled into the nape of Samuel’s neck.

The boy loosened his hold around her waist, turning to look her in the eye. “Hey, it’s not like I planned this from the start. Otherwise I’d have skipped out on embarrassing myself to get your attention and just went to that romantic lookout alone with my new car.”

She smacked his arm affectionately before saying, “Guess I can’t really blame you. Bee sure is one hot piece of tailpipe.”

“You have no idea.” He replayed slightly exasperated.

The two humans then broke apart completely as Mikaela stepped back to emit a high-pitched giggle. As he watching the tension trickle from her body Ratchet could not help but feel his spark lighten, even if the cause for her joy had been the antics of Bumblebee’s charge.

“ **Jealous?”**

Ratchet turned abruptly to find the yellow mech leaning against the hanger opening. He was alarmed that the scout was able to read him as if he were an unsecured datapad. A rush of air made its way through the medic’s intakes quickly. The sound was analogous to that of a human snort.

“ **You know, it doesn’t hurt to try something a tad… eccentric every stellar cycle or so.”** The young autobot inclined his helm to indicate Mikaela and Samuel.

Ratchet crossed both servos over his cassis uncomfortably. **“Do you not believe I should avoid any further experimental practices? Considering the last endeavor I attempted to embark on.”**

“ **You learned your lesson. No more Doc Franken-Bot for the Hatchet. Now stop idling on your struts and make a move already.”** Transforming to his alt mode, Bumblebee rolled down the window and called out from his speakers, **“Oh and by the way. Music. Use it.”**

The bright yellow sports car drove past him to pull up behind Samuel. Both humans turned to face the Camaro, Mikalea’s expression an unreadable mask. Meanwhile Samuel failed to contain his joy, along with a few choice pheromones, upon seeing his guardian. Bumblebee then had David Hasselhoff sing to the boy, “Jump in my car, I wanna take you home.”

With a bashful smile, Samuel made his way to the driver’s side. The vehicle’s interior light flashed on as the door opened before he even reached out for the handle. Before driving off, Bumblebee opened his trunk to Mikaela while playing a few choice lyrics that had Ratchet adamantly regretting his decision to eavesdrop when he made out the words “Stay on the scene (get on up) like a sex machine (get on up).”

As the Camaro sped off, the medic noticed his apprentice spare the duo one last glace before heading off in the opposite direction. Adjusting the focus of his photo receptors he was able to maintain a clear image of her retreating form. Remaining uncertain of how best to precede, he contemplated whether he should even attempt any action at all. Ratchet could operate as though nothing were amiss. Alternatively, there was the option of engaging in this impulse. **_Instead of wallowing in the loss of Jazz, I could very well learn from the saboteur’s life as Bumblebee apparently had._**

Turing his optics to the Camaro that was now being prepared for transport Ratchet considered the success of a theory that had already been tested and proved to generate desirable results. Shifting into alt mode himself, the hummer followed Mikaela at a leisurely speed. His processor was awhirl as he calculated his next move.

 

_Told my girl I just had to forget her,_   
_Rather buy me a new cartburettor,_   
_So she made tracks sayin' ths is the end now,_   
_Cars don't talk back they're just four wheeled friends now,_

**_\---_ **

****

**Deleted Scene (because this went above and beyond out of character):**

“Bee sure is one hot piece of tailpipe.”

“Back off, ex-girlfriend. That mech is mine.” Samuel countered with a peculiar inflection to his voice that was accompanied by a hand gesture and a far more peculiar display of body language that Ratchet had not yet identified.

 


	5. May I Administer Your Prescription?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 09 Movie verse with other continuity undertones - Mikaela's love life hits the road block from hell while Ratchet is left fuming over having committed Wheeljack inspired malpractice. Mikaela/Ratchet with teasing of Sam/Bee; Nothing for, or against, slash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: Now here is where that M rating comes into play. This was actually the first scene to come about in my story. I got halfway through figuring out the logistics of how a female human could be intimate with a sentient car when I realized how much more interested I’d be in writing it if there was a reason behind their coupling. Well, a reason more than just raging hormones and surging energon. Thus we have the conversion of porn to erotica.
> 
> Disclaimer: Just borrowing
> 
> Suggested Listening: Genitorturers – I Touch Myself

There weren’t many secluded places a girl could escape to on a US Navel base in the middle of the Indian Ocean. While the location itself was fairly isolated from the rest of the world she rarely had a quiet moment to herself. Intending to just walk along the beach and feel the sun on her skin she ended up finding the perfect spot to relax and just watch the waves. Enjoying the breeze coming off the water, Mikaela ran tentative fingers along her inner thighs. Smiling to herself, she considered the privacy the palm trees allowed before becoming bolder. Her hands continued to run along exposed legs, lightly tickling the skin as she paused just before the opening of her tight jean skirt. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation.

It had been quite some time since Mikaela allowed herself any sort of release. And now that her emotions had finally simmered down her body ached for some intimate attention. The mechanic regretted her hasty decision to throw out the box of going away goodies Sam gave her just before leaving for college. A few of the choice contents really could have helped out her current predicament. Sighing, she shrugged as her fingers continued their exploration and disappeared into her skirt. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the old fashioned way.” Letting out a throaty moan her digits worked along the cotton barrier they came across.

Cooing softly at the sensation she leaned back against a palm tree as the movements of her hand gradually intensified. All the while her mind wandered lazily over scenes from the past few weeks on base before traveling back further. So much has happened in the past three years. Life had become a wild ride of emotions and sensations that she never really had time to consider. Especially since some of the interactions she experienced left her aching and soar on too many levels. All the stress that had been building now bubbled to the surface as she let out a satisfied gasp when a finger worked its way under her panties. The growing dampness only encouraging her further as she shifted against the ground.

“Why didn’t I think of this sooner?” She groaned when her legs spread wider to allow more movement. “And to think, I could’ve been-” The sound of tires against rock caught her attention and she quickly withdrew her near dripping fingers from between her legs. _You've got to be kidding me_. She growled in the direction of the sound as it became louder. Using a tree for support, she dragged her protesting body up to stand as a familiar search and rescue hummer drove into view.

**“Good morning.”** Was called out too cheerfully as the robot in disguise rolled to a stop just in front of her.

“Hi.” She responded stiffly. Usually seeing Ratchet brought a smile to her face, but his timing today was horrendous.

His wheels shifted slightly as the driver’s side door opened towards her. **“After considering our dilemmas of late I was led to several conclusions. One of which I believe you may like to partake in as soon as possible.”** With the door opened his voice sounded clear yet somewhat off. She tried to place the irregularity but nothing came to mind. **“Do hurry in. I have been meaning to take you for a ride some time now.”**

She winced inwardly at the implications of another long day spent in his med-bay. Mikaela defiantly wouldn’t get the chance to finish what she started any time soon. With slumped shoulder she climbed into the hummer and leaned back against the cool seat before responding. “Sure. Why not? It’s not like I had any other plans today.”

After the door closed the sound of Ratchet’s driver side seatbelt being pulled caught her attention. Usually she was the one to strap herself in. Staring at it quizzically her mind didn’t have time to warn her limbs to move out of the way as Ratchet’s belt snaked its way down and then around her left leg. Mikael’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the seatbelt tighten its hold while lifting her leg up in one fluid motion. Knee now bent and pressed up against the driver’s side window she barely registered the same restraint implementing her right leg as well. The passenger seatbelt pulled that limb up and over the arm rest, securing it there and leaving her in a rather awkward split. “Umm, Ratchet?”

The belts felt as though they were pressing her into his seat while the radio emitted a low, grinding chuckle. **“Yes Mikaela?”** As he spoke she could feel her tight skirt ride up her practically spread-eagle legs.

Upon realizing this, a flush was quick to spread across her face. _Can he see anything at this angle?_ Shifting inelegantly against him she asked, “Didn’t you say you’d be taking me for a ride?”

**“I most certainly did.”** It was defiantly Ratchet’s voice. Yet there was something in his conduct that threw her completely off. After working side by side the gruff medic for so long the sudden shift in his personality startled her almost as much as his actions.

With her hands she gestured to her position before commenting, “Well, what your supposed safely devices are currently doing isn’t exactly ideal for driving.” Eyes narrowed in annoyance she began trying to readjust her skirt so it covered more. The movement only succeeded in pulling the garment further up around her rear, definitely revealing the slightly dampened fabric of her panties. Frowning, she instead moved her hands to cover herself since the skirt was failing miserably in this pose.

**“Who stated anything in regard to going anywhere?”** A rush of warm air accompanied his roguish tone as it flowed over her already heated face. **“Personally, I am quite comfortable right here. You chose a beautiful location.”**

Jaw dropped, she stared at the dashboard in utter shock. _What the hell is going on?_ Her mind blanked on any likely possibility while she considered the implications behind the hummer’s words. He didn’t sound menacing, but Mikaela was unaccustomed to hearing him act in such a mischievous manner. She tried to think back to the problems he had referenced but still couldn’t pinpoint what any of this had to do with that. It also didn’t help that her fevered thought patterns had the opposite effect on quelling her building anxiety. Looking around Ratchet’s interior she searched for some sign of the vehicle’s intentions. Aside from the autobot decal in the center of his wheel, Ratchet resembled the average Hummer H2 flawlessly. Eying the alien symbol it seemed to stare back at her blankly. _You’re no help at all,_ she thought bitterly.

As if waiting for her mind to settle down first, Ratchet finally continued with somewhat of an explanation. **“Now concerning your diagnosis, I have comprised a treatment that should suit both our needs.”** The radio flipped through several stations before settling on the song Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye. **“May I administer your prescription?”** While the music played his voice now sounded as though it were coming from all around, further heightening her swelling apprehension.

“That depends…” A trickle of realization was dripping somewhere in the back of her mind. Logically the pieces still weren’t coming together but there was a part of her that seemed to not only know what was going on but almost had her begging for it.

**“On?”** His amusement was more than apparent when she heard a latch somewhere beneath her release and the seat began moving forward. Feeling her left knee slide uncomfortably along the glass of his driver’s side window she tried drawing it back to her body. The action only met with a tighter restraint around the limb though the belt did give her a bit more leeway, helping to relieve the friction from the glass.

“On what you had in mind instead of an actual ride. Yah know, the kind most cars take people on?” Her snarky attitude didn’t stick around much longer as she felt the seat pause just in front of his steering wheel. Legs spread wide before it she tried to figure out what he could possibly be trying to accomplish. After gulping down a mounting cry of frustration she felt the seat lean back slightly in an almost comforting manner.

Again with the uncharacteristic chuckle, Ratchet released another rush of warm air. Being closer to the vents she could feel it flow down between her thighs. The sensation resembled a light caress over the exposed skin. **“Most cars are not autonomous robotic organisms from another planet.”**

While his continued playfulness did nothing to calm her down, Mikaela felt her initial surprise continue to build into something else. After all, this was Ratchet. The resident medical officer for the autobots. Unless faced with a decpticon his primary focus was on the well being of those around him. Sure he had that gruff exterior, but having worked as closely with him as she did on a regular basis Mikaela became aware of his other aspects as well. Though even after all that time she was left quite unprepared for what happened next.

There was a soft buzzing that could be felt throughout the hummer. At the same time he slowly began to rock back and forth lightly on his wheels. A shiver ran down her spine when one of the sensations intensified into soothing vibrations which caused her tense body to sink into the seat and she couldn’t help but relax somewhat. That moment was soon shattered as a movement drew her eyes. Ratchet’s steering wheel dropped lower and adjusted before slowly extending towards her.

Brows knitting, Mikaela gaped at the approaching wheel as it made contact with the sensitive skin over her still uplifted thighs. She tried to say something, anything. But all coherent thoughts abandoned her when the wheel pulsated teasingly before extending ever closer to the hands she used to conceal her now damper panties.

**“If I am to proceed efficiently, your servos must evacuate the premises.”** His tone, while exceedingly playful, left no room for disagreement. Still wanting to maintain some level of dignity she hesitated for a moment before that trickle of understanding in her head finally exploded into a waterfall. Her hands then rose up to rest on her knees, leaving the wheel a clear opening.

“I'm still not quite sure- what I mean to say is…” All confusion melted away while delightful understanding washed over her. Ratchet’s steering wheel had progressed past her inner thighs and lowered to rest just above her cotton covered cooch. Lightly he rocked her against the vibrating wheel before pulling back ever so slightly. The space between them seemed painfully large as Mikaela tried shifting her hips forward to close the distance again. The steady rocking of the hummer promised to help before cruelly shifting her that much further away from the pulsating object. Every time he moved her towards the potential vibrator he instead rocked her away. “So now you’re a tease?” The radio then changed stations as a new song began to fill the hummer. She barely registered You Shook Me All Night Long by ACDC.

**“I do apologize for interrupting you earlier.”** He stated smoothly while continuing his torturous movements. **“If you would like to resume your previous plans I can proceed back to base and wait for you before divulging any further conclusions.”** He spoke clearly, attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible while maintaining the steady rocking.

Grimacing against the strain of his belts, she tried to thrust her hips outwards enough to feel that teasing wheel against her. “Oh,” she huffed, “now you give me a choice?” _Not that I can really even call it that at this point._

Softening his voice she felt a cool rush of air from the vents, causing her nipples to harden. **“You always have a choice, Mikaela.”** Adjusting the seat slightly his tone became huskier, **“Now, is this what you want?”**

A frustrated snarl escaped her lips as she struggled against the restraints. Reaching for the belts she was unsuccessful at loosening their firm hold on her legs. Shifting her gaze to the autobot symbol in front of her she narrowed her eyes as if it were the cause of her plight. “Yes.” she was finally able to grunt out.

A satisfied mummer could be heard throughout the interior as together Ratchet's seat and wheel shifted just enough to bring the bottom of the throbbing hand grip against her. The rush of relief was almost enough to make her cum right then as the vibrations coursing through her from the wheel increased in intensity as it finally pressed against those slick cotton panties. The sensation moved against her aching labia as a cry of pleasure drowned out the radio while her head flew back into Ratchet’s headrest. The cushion seemed to hold her gently as the steering wheel continued to rhythmically pulsate against her. The girl’s hands lifted from her knees of their own accord and gripped the sides of his wheel as though she were about to drive. Mikaela managed to help press it directly to where her clit was hiding before it shifted under her grip. She held on tightly in case Ratchet decided to try pulling away from her again but was relieved to feel he was instead following her example. Once directly over that magic button the vibrations became stronger as the wheel pressed harder against her. The experience was like masturbating with a vibrator that didn’t need to be manipulated, leaving her hands free. They continued to clutch his steering wheel, digging polished nails into the hard rubber.

After continuing in this manner the buildup was almost too much for Mikaela to take as for once she tried shifting away from the source of her pleasure. But Ratchet would not have that, as his seatbelts holding her in place readjusted to bring her right back where he wanted. **“Are you actually trying to escape me, Mekaela?”** His disembodied voice practically purred into her ear. **“Dear girl, you are inside of me.”**

A wave of excitement rushed over her as she cried out in ecstasy. For the first time in months she could discern no possible way of converting her thoughts into words as the unrelenting vibrations against her now drenched panties sent her up and over the edge. Gripping his wheel with white knuckles Mikaela screamed out her bliss, rocking against him. The pain from the now too tight straps only intensified the release as Ratchet held her securely before she finally slumped back into his seat. Small trembles continued to run through her body as the steering wheel slowed its vibrations to a stop before unhurriedly pulling away. The bottom of the dark gray grip glistened with a slick sheen under the light that shown through Ratchet's windows.

An air-conditioned vent turned on and shifted downwards to release a jet of cool air over her trembling legs as the belts finally loosened enough to release them. Too caught up in the aftermath of her orgasm, Mikaela didn't even try to untangle herself from the seatbelts as she fought to form at least one coherent thought.

Luckily Ratchet once again took the initiative, **“I do hope that I have in some way managed to answer at least one of your inquiries.”** His tone retained that ridiculous inflection which she was beginning to grow quite fond of. She then heard him trying to contain another chuckle as he lowered the seat back, allowing her to lie down.

Furrowing her brows at Ratchet’s ceiling she still couldn’t quite imagine a suitable response. All that came to mind was _Domo arigato for getting me off Mr. Roboto_ as a giggle of satisfaction mingled with glee escaped her lips.


	6. Concealing Susceptible Machinery Beneath External Coverings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the last chapter. But after around page seven I realized there still needed to be at least some semblance of falling action, what with all the climaxing going on (What? You really expected better from me at this point?). It couldn’t be helped; Ratchet is just too damn fun to write. So instead of cutting this in half and reformatting it I’ll just leave it as an insanely long chapter and have a short conclusion from Mikaela’s perspective.
> 
>  **Suggested Listening:** Erasure – A Little Respect; Jem – Come On Closer

 

_And if I should falter_

_Would you open you arms out to me_

_We can make love not war_

_And live at peace with our hearts_

 

With sensors stretched and scanners on high alert the autobot searched for his apprentice. Typically, locating her on the relatively small base was simple yet he had been unable to lock onto her energy signature for very long. Engine rumbling in annoyance, the hummer considered the haste with which he enacted what should have been an error proof plan.

When Ratchet had driven back to base with a seemingly content girl draped across his driver’s seat last orbital cycle he could not help but feel immensely pleased. There was no doubt that Mikaela had achieved her peek of sexual gratification. The memory file of the way her nails had persistently dug into hard rubber still caused his spark to pulse excitedly within its chamber. After playing the feed over again for a third time he switched his attention to the mechanic. Particularly, he searched for any sign of regret that she might harbor. Detecting nothing but the occasional shutter of muscles and persistent curl of her lips he continued on with his satisfied passenger.

After parking outside her bunk he waited patiently for any indication that she would exit him, silently hoping she would choose to remain in his interior where he would continue to monitor her body’s feedback to his earlier attentions. Again considering his new favorite memory file, Ratchet could not help but dwell on the delight he felt. Previously it had been difficult for him to appreciate his recent ventures. Thus when Mikaela shifted against his seat to reach for the door latch the hummer immediately became disappointed. Though upon parting with her he already began constructing plans for their next encounter and so was able to maintain his jovial demeanor.

Yet during the entirety of this orbital cycle she has been avoiding him, never remaining in one place for long and in doing so becoming quite difficult to track. The game of chase continued to grate on his patience as he persistently drove around various buildings. For the most part she seemed to remain within the smaller dwellings that he would have difficulty fitting inside. At one point he had almost had her but was thwarted by an inconveniently placed tank.

Retreating to his med-bay, the vehicle slumped in his tires. The ancient cybertronian relics seemed to encroach on his brooding and he somehow resisted the urge to charge headlight first into them. **“Why are femms consistently perplexing no matter the planet they dwell upon?”** He grumbled aloud. **“And how might I possibly address her apparent unrest if she will not speak with me?”**

Shifting to bipedal mode, Ratchet began pacing. The repetitive movement did little to ease his building agitation so he continued to speak audibly as Mikaela had done so many times before. He noticed that it calmed her when she was particularly restless and may do the same for him. **“Now, since she has never acted in this manner prior, I can only deduce it is related to yesterday’s events. Yet she had asked me to continue. I was careful to have her verbal consent before proceeding in any manner that may have distressed her.”** He reflected back further, considering the events leading up to their relations.

Pausing mid step, he suddenly recalled the ease with which Mikaela had embraced Samuel. Even after all the frustration and grief the boy had caused she still felt at ease enough in his presence to engage him in such an affectionate manner. Ratchet then looked down upon his own frame and felt inhibited by it for the first time. While versatile and advanced, his body could be considered far from equipped to maintain a human female’s sexual interest.

Hunching slightly, his spark was immediately lifted as a new plan formulated within his mainframe. The medic began searching through cyberspace for references as he tinkered with the programming for his holo projector. Oblivious to the passage of time, Ratchet almost did not notice the faint sound of knocking outside his hanger. Alerted to the intruder, he could barely contain his delight upon seeing the mechanic peering in.

“Hey,” she began timidly. “Look, about today…. I just wanted to-”

 **“No need to explain yourself, Mikaela. I have already formed a solution.”** He stated with barely contained satisfaction towards his ingenuity. Ratchet then emitted a beam of light that shifted to become his holoform. The image wavered slightly before gradually becoming less translucent. Typically the projection was simply used as a means for completing a cybertronian’s disguise. It was counterproductive to move around among another species stealthily if their alt mode lacked something so essential. In this particular case, a driver. He never calculated having to use it for any other purpose. Yet if this is what was required to make Mikalea more at ease in his presence, then the mech carefully provided this means for which he might again engage her.

Concentrating on the rarely used ability, he made the projected holoform smile at his apprentice before bending into a traditional bow. Ever the multitasker, Ratchet also had himself linked to several websites that assisted him in the authenticity of the creation’s mannerisms.

Dread flooded his chords as he observed her reaction to it. Mikaela's exquisite features scrunched together in a sneer, seeming to regard the holoform with contempt. “That,” she paused to look up at the mech angrily, “Is proof of just how much you don’t get it.” Placing hands upon hips, the irritated organic proceeded to move past his projection, not even granting it a second glace as she now stood before Ratchet. The simmering woman seemed about ready to boil over at him.

His mainframe struggled to come up with scenarios that might alleviate her aggression. After a quick search through the globe’s national information infrastructure he came across a stream of data that might work in this predicament. According to various internet sources, many mammalians will back down if they no longer feel threatened or opposed. Also, in the case of several canine species, exposing one’s underside may be used to demonstrate passiveness in a hostile situation.

Careful to not intensify her agitation Ratchet slowly shifted his parts, laying his stabilizing servos along the ground and pointed away from her. As his aft made contact with the cement floor Mikaela seemed to be having a hard time maintaining her fuming appearance. Taking that as a sign of success, he continued lowering the rest of his body until only his helm remained somewhat vertical to continue observing her. No longer looming over her, the medic felt relief when his apprentice took a less hostile stance.

“Look, here’s the deal.” She began almost reluctantly. “What happened yesterday was… I mean- you know.” Expectantly, her eyes bore into him. He had difficulty holding her gaze as a look of disappointment crossed her features when she paused briefly. “I take it you can’t just read my mind to understand this, right?”

 **“That would be excessively invasive and more akin to Soundwave’s method.”** He remarked placidly. Ratchet then adjusted his photo receptors to better focus in on her as she responded. With optics modified he regarded her facial movements while blocking out all other distractions.

"For a while I didn’t really understand. I mean, our bodies are so different." Her brows furrowed as she regarded the mech, “Can you really even feel me?” The question may have been rhetorical, uttered almost absentmindedly from her. Either way, Ratchet could not help but feel inclined to answer. He would not tolerate the experience of yet another awkward silence between them while not knowing the thoughts she had yet to fully express. **_A silence I once craved not too many cycles ago._**

**“Your core body temperature has been ninety eight point nine degrees Fahrenheit. Overall your other vitals have been steadily increasing. Blood pressure is the most drastic change. Heart rate is also up; respirations are irregular and well over the norm of twenty per minute. Also-”**

She cut him off with a shake of her head and then turned to look over his projected holoform before shifting back to face him. “That’s not what I meant. Look, I don’t care about how incompatible we may be physically. At least not any more.” Moving closer, she pulled off her jean jacket, dropping it in her wake. The already focused in view of her face becoming larger as she advanced. “So you don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not for me.”

He watched as her pupils dilated with arousal and felt his own optics darken in response, **_Fascinating..._** his thoughts trailed off while the slender girl's face he watched so intently became obscured by fabric. Alarmed, he began zooming out to understand the cause for this. **_Why would she conceal her face from me?_** He speculated before understanding finally dawned upon the mech when her full form came back into view. Mikaela was standing before him; the shirt that once clad her torso had been cast aside to land beside his holoform. Optics guards pulled back at the sight of Mikaela’s pert mammary glands that were now only obscured by black lace. Her rectus abdominis shown strongly through the skin of her stomach and he could not help but follow those muscle lines trailing downwards into the waste of her jeans. Moving back up to her face he noted a look of disapproval still firmly set in her features, yet concealed behind it was something else. Brow plates narrowing, he tried to place the hidden expression.

While lost in thought, he was unprepared for what happened next. As if his less dominating position was not enough for her, Mikaela proceeded to move towards and began climbing up onto him. He tried not to rev his engine too much when her slight hands fit between plating as she grasped cords while making her way up and onto his chassis. There the girl wobbled slightly before standing to her full height. “So...” She trailed off, irritation apparently having evaporated into mischief some time during her ascent, “What the hell made you think I’d want that- that thing instead of you?”

Taken aback, Ratchet could only stare at her in bewilderment.

“Well?” She insisted.

 **“After I returned you to the barracks you later seemed to go out of your way to avoid my company. I came to the conclusion that on some level you were uncomfortable with my recent actions. Thus I used the technology from my holoprojection mechanism to generate something that may make you more at ease in my presence.”** Unwilling to invoke another round of her displeasure, he refrained from mentioning that it was all so that he might possibly continue exploring her anatomical working more intimately.

She shook her head, eyes glossing over ever so slightly. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Ratchet.” He watched as her hands once again went to her hips and could not help but wonder if she was about to become irate again. Instead of resting there in a position of aggression her hands moved to unbutton, and then slide off her servo coverings to reveal a shapely curve that flowed into long legs. Kicking the pants towards the holoform Ratchet decided that now would be an excellent time to remove the unnecessary construction.

Mikaela bent down to place her hand on a headlight, causing his engine to rev audibly at the contact. A playful smile turned up her mouth as she held her hand there. The skin of it glowed a light red while obscuring the light. “Keeping my distance wasn’t cause I didn’t want to do anything else. I just… had no clue what else I could do.” Her palm spread itself flat against the headlight while nails tapped the armor around it. The mech’s spark throbbed in its casing at the sensation. It made his circuits begin to overheat and caused his cooling fans to double their effort.

**“Mikalea, I-”**

She brought her other hand up and held a single finger over full lips, “Shhh. It’s my turn now.” While speaking, her fingers continued their fluttering descent down his chassis. “You know, we have a lot of similarities- and I don’t just mean the common work interest. For example, this armor plating can be treated a lot like the flap of a buttoned down shirt.” As if to emphasis her point, Ratchet felt a graceful hand slip between the panels. Curious fingers came in contact with his bare components to explore the gently thrumming metal.

By touch alone Mikaela was able to stimulate several motor parts despite his attempt to shield the effect it had on him. Every so often, she would nudged a cable or bolt that caused his engine to knock the machinery against her fingers eagerly while his processor whirled at the very notion this was occurring. His apprentice then leaned in closer; her breath fogging the sensitive metal of his neck. Ratchet could not hold back a tremble at the moist warmth now teasing the receptive chords. Mikaela seemed to delight in that reaction since she then deliberately breathed along the cables with hands still tinkering in ways he had never calculated. When her mouth reached his collar struts she placed a lingering kiss before moving back to emit another cool breath over his heated metal.

The autobot then bent his neck forward, both to protect against the onslaught of her exhalation and to better observe the way her dexterous fingers manipulated his mechanisms.

A shy grin became playful as she shifted, blocking his view. With mouth plates clattering against one another in frustration he propped himself up further, careful not to dislodge the woman from her perch. She released a high pitched tone that he came to know as a ‘giggle’ at his attempt and turned so her back was now to him, successfully obscuring her ministrations. With nothing distracting her, Mikaela’s full attention seemed to go towards pulling back the now practically limp armor coverings to fully expose his circuitry.

When she reached in to run her nails along an especially sensitive bolt, Ratchet felt his energon lines send a burst of the glowing fluid to his spark chamber. Fans stuttered as they sought to keep up with the rush of heat through his systems. While trying to clear his static infused processor the medic’s optics locked on to the sinuous arc of her derriere. Irrationally, he found its shape was beyond pleasing to his visual sensors so he continued to admire the obstruction.

He then noticed the chemical compounds emanating from beneath the lacy undergarment that barely concealed her pareneium. The scent was positively tantalizing and soon the urge to reach for her outweighed the delightfully distracting strokes she applied to his machinery. As giant steal hands gripped smooth bare thighs Mikaela gasped. The sound was encouragement enough to continue so with one hand caressing her tenderly he concentrated on the other. Metal fingers shifted, transforming into an array of tools. Settling on one in particular he brought its sharp edge to the black cloth and easily sliced through the thin fibers.

“And you say I can’t follow instructions,” she murmured. Her hands then attempted to resume their exploration under his armor, palms gliding against metal sensuously.

Struggling to concentrate, Ratchet carefully detached the rest of the undergarment to expose her labia. Feeling Mikaela hesitate he prepared to take advantage of her respite yet his apprentice suddenly began shifting atop him once more. His own movements faltered as a carbon based grip encircled several cables that ran directly to his spark chamber. Visually, he was able to watch her lean down until lines of static filled his optics.

Fisted servos slammed into the ground as he detected a warm dampness along those cords. Her grip tightened at the abrupt movement and, undiscouraged by his outburst, the women stoked at his energy lines with more confidence. When she bent down further he then sensed teeth grating along the protective covering of his surging wires.

 **“Oh, Primus!”** He groaned out in a cycled gasp.

Mikaela’s lips could be felt curling into a smile around his cords before applying a sucking action. The experience may have overloaded him if she had not release the stimulated cables to speak. “I do hope you are aware that I had once figured you would not allow me to work on your chassis because it was simply too advanced for a mere organic such as I,” she mocked in a poor imitation of his speech pattern.

With vents hissing and pistons pumping the autobot’s processor was able to come out of its haze just enough to formulate his reprisal. After all, Ratchet was never one to idly park by while a cybertronian’s circuitry was exposed. **Particularly if I am the mech in question.**

His hands once more reached up to grip her slight form, now holding her in place as he opened his mandible while bending just enough to bring her within reach. At such close proximity his olfactory senses greedily filtering in the scent of her excitement. Slowly the mech’s glossa emerged to lick across her skin. Mickaela’s voice emitted a surprised cry that went up several octaves as he moved over the voluptuous curve of her thigh to where toned legs came together. He felt her tremble slightly and was encouraged all the more by it.

 **“It would appear that I am not the only one concealing susceptible machinery beneath external coverings.”** He then traced his glossa along the outside of her labia before teasing the vaginal lips open. Data flashed before his optics as sensors reported their findings within. The wave of information threatened to offline the medic right then and there as he plunged further inside.

Her back arched with each caress he applied while his glossa trailed out from the vaginal opening only to once again thrust further back inside. Every reaction she had was positively alluring. Her incoherent sounds, the degrees of radiated warmth, along with a multitude scents and tastes had him rapidly processing everything he could. All the while he felt his energon lines propel more power towards his spark chamber. Somewhere within the haze of his overheated mainframe the medic recalled a bundle of never endings that Mikaela had once directed his steering wheel to. Completely drawing back his glossa, Ratchet redirected it to her clitoris. The women cried out a new sound, high pitched moaning mingled with a whimper.

Intrigued the mech repeated the action; now taking care to move agonizingly slow so as to accurately record her body’s multiple responses. While distracted, Mikaela’s hands released their tight grip on his cords and went straight for the casing of his spark chamber. After fumbling over the latches she was able to lift the covering to expose his life source.

Ratchet paused in his strokes to openly stare at her body silhouetted by the light of his spark. The sight was far more appealing then the majority of images he had recorded throughout his long lifespan. Her outreached hands then meandered over the radiance of his being, tentative in their movements. The sensation sent his engine revving all the harder. The vibrations of his overworked systems soon had the women trembling atop him. He then felt the need to reciprocate this level of pleasure.

Plunging inside her one moment and then slipping out to lick her clitoris the next, he continued this pattern while Mikaela’s hands drew closer to his spark. All the while he detected her fingers flexing as they curved around the brightening rays of light. Engine already running at full throttle, the mech intensified the overall stimulation by again sheathing his glossa deeper to focus on her Grafenberg spot.

Above him the women trembled and strained till there was nothing beyond the sizzling sensory experience between them. Abruptly, Mikaela let out a throaty cry that was barely audible above the roar of Ratchet’s engine. A large hand gently cupped her form while she rode out their overload as his systems released the pent-up energy. With every circuit charged he began to panelize and static lines took over his vision. Meanwhile his fans stuttered and whirled as they tried to cool the overheated mech.

Faceplating twisted upward into a grin while his vocal processor emitted a low, pleased hum when he felt his apprentice curl against his chassis. One metal hand lifted to hold her there while the other carefully closed his chest platting. When the light of his spark became closed off the majority of his systems shut down as he slipped into recharge.

_And now you're satisfied_   
_A twinkle in your eye_   
_Go to sleep for ten_   
_And anticipating_   
_I will be waiting_   
_For you to wake again_


	7. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once, the latest chapter was the last to be written. Sadly this concludes Grease Monkeys though not the overall plot I somehow pieced together amidst the scandalous build up. If all goes well I should be continuing this continuity after classes simmer down a bit (A.K.A. not any time too soon).  
> Disclaimer: Just borrowing since all recognizable characters and music legally belong to their respective owners.  
> Suggested Listening: The Pussycat Dolls ft. A. R. Rahman - Jai Ho (You Are My Destiny)

_I guess a guy falling asleep afterward really is a universal trait_.  Fingers lightly drummed on cool metal as Mickaela’s gaze traveled appreciatively over Ratchet’s rigid frame.  The mech's coolant system had apparently gone a bit overboard to compensate for how hot she made him.  Not that she minded.  After all, he did have her pretty riled up too so the feel of his slightly chilled metal body was a great relief. 

 

Her instructor had been in stasis for the last ten minutes.  She would have been panicking at having off-lined the only cybertronian medical officer around if it weren’t for the faint whirl of his internal systems that let her know at least something in there still worked.  A lustful smile spread across her face at the thought of what lay beneath that bright yellow chassis.  Then, after some consideration, it promptly morphed into a mischievous smirk.  _If he's that sensitive to pleasure in there, what might an attempt at tickling do to that usually stoic demeanor?_   She couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of this grumpy old ape thrashing about cause of a feather light touch to just the right part.  After further deliberation Mikaela eventually concluded, _nah, not worth risking my life over._

 

Clad in nothing but her black bra she looked to what was left of her panties.  The once sexy lingerie lay several feet down and could never be worn again.  _Ratchet sure did a number on those.  Note to self: never wear Victoria’s Secret around him again_.  Most guys would have taken it off the normal way or at the very least just pulled it aside and slipped in; the medic sliced right through the satin thong.  But then, the autobot was far from a normal guy.  By quite a few light-years, even.  She then regarded the rest of her clothes marking the path she took to the horizontal mech and concluded, _guess I’ll be going commando today.  How fitting on a military base_.

 

As she shifted to better see Ratchet’s face her thoughts flowed to a more pressing concern.  _So... are we, like, dating now?  Or am I just some sort of cyber-slut?_ She was all about trying new experiences.  But this went well beyond that.  Could she even go steady with her boss, a guy who also happened to be a transforming alien?  Or was this just some fling?  Maybe Ratchet was her overstressed mind’s bad idea of a rebound.  As she continued down this thought stream Mikaela couldn’t help but feel more insecure than ever.  _I guess sex, no matter how out-of-this-world, still can't magically fix everything_.

 

Suddenly an epiphany crashed into her.  She was a mechanic, after all.  And Ratchet’s the medical officer for mechanical stuff.  So, theoretically, working this out should be no problem for their combined ingenuity.  After all, if Sam and Bee could make something like this work why not her and Ratchet?

 

Her mind was brought back by the sound of a mechanical groan, followed by cybertronian mutterings.  A large arm then rose up beside her to begin fumbling along his helm while the grumbling intensified.  Taking hold of the nearest panel for support, she pulled herself further up his chassis and noticed the flickering of his optics.

 

“Hold on a sec,” she called out before reaching her hands to where his visual processor lay beneath the armor plating.  Thankful for small fingers, she felt along the smooth chrome to discover a few loose components.  Twisting them back into place, Mikaela delighted at the sight of his optics coming fully online.  When the bright blue light brought her back to thoughts of his spark she felt the rumbling of his overworked engine somewhere beneath her.  “Settle down there, hot bot.  Wouldn’t want you to overheat and pass out on me again.”

 

She heard something beneath the armor grind and growl before he replied.  **“My temperature regulating system is more than adequately maintaining my thermo levels.”**

 

Smirking, she placed a pointed finger on the tip of his olfactory ridge accusingly.  “Uh huh, so is that why you’ve been out of commission since that crazy orgasm?”

 

He seemed to hesitate briefly before responding, **“My chronometer indicates that there has not been a significant passage of time since I went into stasis.”**

 

“Either way, I totally shut down the big scary robot,” she gloated.

 

A small gasp of surprise escaped her lips at the feel of his enormous metal hand resting against her back.  **“Ah, so am I to insinuate that this has become some semblance of a competition?”**   As he spoke, one of his digits began to stroke between her shoulders affectionately.

 

 _Where was I going with this again?_   She pondered while her body relaxed against his.  She always loved the feel of machinery.  Especially now that she knew it could make her feel this good.  _Oh, right._   “Something like that.  And I’m winning.”  She delighted at the sight of his optics brightening with her words.

 

 **“Doubtful.  By my more accurate count it would appear that I have brought you to the human body’s peek of sexual fulfillment twice.  You have only achieved the equivalent of such an experience once on my frame.”**  

 

“That’s only cause you cheated,” she accused while lifting up onto her elbows to better glare down at him.  The effect was ruined by her lopsided grin.

 

 **“One cannot be accused of acting deceitfully if the rules were not made comprehensible from the beginning.”**   He pressed down on her gently while leaning forward, bringing her face to the same level as his.

 

Mikaela tried to prop herself up again but was met with unrelenting resistance.  Giving up for now she said, “It’s called ‘waiting your turn.’  Look it up, cheater.”  Her playful attitude remained as she continued, “Guess you’ll just have to prove your supposed ‘fair and just’ autobot nature to me.”

 

His chassis vibrated beneath her as the sound of his sputtering chuckle filled the med-bay.  **“I do hope you are aware that these games are unnecessary.  If there is something you require of me, I insist you ask more directly.  Otherwise how am I to comply adequately?”**

 

She immediately turned her head to hide the blush behind a shield of dark hair.  Mikaela wasn’t expecting him to be so direct.  She tried having the relationship talk before but whenever the concept of commitment came up things really started falling apart.  It was much safer to tip-toe around the idea to help get a feel for what they wanted before she even considered sticking around any longer. 

 

Suddenly the hand resting atop her moved to cradle the women while Ratchet’s body adjusted from lying down to a sitting position.  Now being held in both cupped hands she could practically feel him regarding her intently.  Looking up to her instructor she saw his armored ape face was set in a serious expression.  **“Hmmm?”**   He insisted.

 

“I uh…”  Trailing off she considered what exactly it was she wanted.  “I don’t know,” Mikaela finally replied weakly.

 

 **“That is a shame.  While I would like to continue this conversation, you still have to resume your previous lesson.  We are already behind schedule.”**   He then lowered her to the floor and the twitch of his digits gave away a reluctance do so.  **“You have two options and will not be granted reprieve until the conditions of at least one is met.  Either complete your assignment or have an answer for me.”**

 

Stepping down to the ground she was thankful for the offered alternative.  It was hard enough to come up with an explanation while looking someone in the eye, and even harder when it was two glowing optics.  At least this way he’d go back to alt mode and give her a chance to actually think things through.  The mechanic couldn’t help but sigh in relief before turning to look back at her discarded clothes.

 

As she moved to retrieve her pants a large stabilizing servo came crashing down on the garment.  Startled, Mikaela jumped back and looked up to find Ratchet staring down at her with his face plating curved upwards in cheeky, monkey grin.  **“Have I neglected to mention that your external coverings will not be returned until you are finished?”**   He then bent to collect her clothing, depositing them somewhere in his sub-space compartment.

 

She stared at him, mouth agape.  “But… but what if someone comes in?”  She finally demanded.

 

His gruff voice was laced with mirth as he replied, **“then I suggest you act quickly, be it thinking or performing.  The choice is entirely yours, dear girl.”**

 

As outraged as she was by his words, Mikaela couldn’t help the rush of heat between her legs.  Desperately trying to ignore how hot and bothered he was getting her she crossed her arms over the only item of clothing she had left.  _This perve is so getting tickled.  I don’t care if I have to recruit the twins to do it_ , she thought as the mech transformed into a search and rescue hummer. 

 

“You’re going to regret this,” she warned before moving to retrieve her roller board from beneath a work bench.

 

**“Perhaps.  In the meantime you are going to comply with the parameters I have established.”**

 

 _No wonder sleeping with your boss is considered a bad idea_.  As she prepared to slide under Ratchet and pick up where they left off another lesson well learned came to mind.  _Pillow talk with a colossal metal being is by far a lot more dangerous than fighting one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Explanation: The music was one of the biggest parts of this for me. Finding a song that said just what I wanted it to, while setting the right sort of mood was done almost as meticulously as the dialogue. It’s also one of the driving forces that kept me typing away.  
> It feels good to actually finish a story for once. Usually I get an idea and jot some notes down or maybe write a chapter or two. But I was having way too much fun with this in general to not complete it. I’ve loved Transformers since I began watching Beast Wars before school each morning. From there I delved into the rest of the franchise to better understand some of the hokey back-story that came up in the two later seasons.  
> I adored both Transformers movies while I recognizing how much was wrong with them (especially 2). This idea actually came about to make the poorly constructed universe a bit more consistent. Somewhere in the process it also became an erotica, go figure. I blame that on the fanfiction writers who have a great romance going between a human and mech, but then resort to altering one into the other before anything really sexy happens. If I wanted human on human action, I’d go have sex with my boyfriend instead of reading stories rated M about giant alien robots. But then, that’s just me. So instead of whining about it I tried writing my own. This way I not only get what I want, turns out I can share it with others who might have been after something similar too.  
> So thanks for sticking around!


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